Devotion
by Sam-Tony
Summary: The dedication has been made, now it's time to confess. Sequel to Dedication.


(_From the end of Dedication..._

_ "I'm just glad I managed to get all 'f my paperwork done. All I have left is..." He groaned and Nick's grin held an evil cast._

_"Let me guess..."_

_Dryly, the priest nodded. "Mornin' sermon. But I was comin' out t' the House later. To apologize." He admitted ruefully._

_"Come anyway," Nick told him, slapping his back before opening the heavy wooden door, leaving the garden. "Better than stayin' here. We'll let you sleep.")..._

Devotion 

With a promise to return around noon to pick him up, Nick left. Leaving Philip alone. Again.

"Oh, stop it!" Turning resolutely from the front of the church, the rest, the Irishman scolded himself silently. He hadn't actually been able to make himself watch the American leave. _He'll be back in a few hours; it's not like you'll never see him again_!

Not to mention that fact that in a little over three hours he had a sermon to deliver. Philip Callaghan should have plenty on his mind to fret over other than Nick Boyle.

Should have didn't help.

Running a hand through short brown hair going gray at the temples, Philip began to make his way to the rectory and his room, only to stop on impulse at the row of candles by the alter, lighting one. Once a soft prayer of thanks was sent on it's way to God, the priest moved through the main sacristy, hearing a noise.

Moving closer towards the left and back, Philip called out softly, "Is anyone there?"

Stupid. How many times watching horror movies late into the night, had he and Alex yelled and scoffed at the unlucky victim, calling out to his or her imagined attacker? Now here he was, having just done the exact same thing.

An unexplained feeling of nervousness caught him as he realized there was indeed someone there, in the last confessional box. At 3:30 in the morning, where no one should even be awake, much less seeking salvation.

Despite the strangeness of it all, though hesitant, Philip slipped in next door and opened the latticed window.

"Hello?"

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned."

"Nick?" Hearing that voice, relief flooded through him. Thinking maybe - possibly - this was the ex-SEAL's idea of a joke, Philip shook his head.

Knowing Nick's sense of humor, what else could it be?

"Verra funny. You've 'ad yer fun. It's late and I _would_ like t' get at least some sleep b'fore the sun comes up."

"Please, Philip." The familiar voice entreated, sounding serious. "Humor me?"

Philip sighed.

"Alright." Whatever Nick wanted to confess, it was his job and Philip would listen. Nick had listened to him earlier, and if nothing else, he'd manage to selfishly keep his company a little while longer. "How long has it been since your last confession?"

"It's...been a while."

"I'll bet." His own humor dry, Philip heard the brief chuckle. "And what would be th' nature 'f your confession at this late hour... " Phillip grinned and added, "...my son?"

He had to do it. If confronted, the Irishman would simply claim payback for the ex-SEAL scaring him to death.

There was no chuckle this time but, despite the darkness and the concealing window, Philip could have sworn he saw Nick's glare.

The grin grew.

"I think...I've gone and fallen in love. But I'm not sure the...other person knows. In fact, " There was a pause and Philip held his breath. "I don't think they have a clue."

His heart dropping, his chest tight, the priest suddenly hurt; a deep ache that he was sure would not go away. Nick wanted him to encourage his pursuit; perhaps even give him some insight or advice on how to win over his ladylove.

The breaking of his heart hurt all the worse for the steep fall the height of his hopes had sent it plummeting from.

It was all he could do to force the light words and tell his friend what he obviously wanted to hear. "So what's yer problem, then? Just tell her how you feel. I'm sure she'll be more th'n happy t' return yer affection once y' set her straight."

There was silence on the other side of the wall; a silence Philip did not notice at first, bound up in his own misery and grief. But then...

"I didn't say it was a woman, Father."

There was another pause and a part of Philip was stunned, almost to shock at the SEAL's admission. But before he could regroup to say anything at all, Nick was continuing.

"I've...fallen in love with another man."

"Does..." He had to stop and start again, his throat dry and tight. "Does he know? How you feel, I mean."

"About him? No. I've tried to give hints but so far," Philip could hear Nick sigh, imagined he heard the wood of the bench creaking with the shifting of the younger man's weight. "So far...you could say he's been fairly dense."

Not a woman, then who...

Immediate thoughts of little things sprang to Philip's mind. The scraps, the little snippy fights that he thought had no cause other than his own growing sexual tension. The casual cup of coffee that just appeared at his elbow, late in the night while pouring over library texts.

Offers for rides; the bookstore, the laundry to pick up his cassocks. To the shelters in the Tenderloin to administer comfort to a few particularly despondent parishioners, all because Nick hadn't wanted him to go alone.

Little things, considerate things, that only a best friend - or lover - might do.

"Which makes me wonder if he's just not interested and I'm making a big fool of myself."

"He's the fool." Philip hadn't meant to say the words until he heard them out loud. But everything had suddenly clicked into place and, once said, not only did he mean them, he found he didn't want to take them back.

A pause.

"Yah, well... I thought about telling him. Just putting it all out on the line, but...I chickened out." And Nick's soft musing changed, shifted. "I wasn't sure he'd believe me if I told him."

The priest sighed. The dedication earlier that night _had_ been for him. And now this; telling him in a way the priest would have to take as truth. As the sacred confession it was.

Because Philip had all but said as much earlier, lamenting on the lost value of three simple words.

"I - he would."

"Yeah...maybe. But even if he knew how I felt..."

Philip interrupted softly and there could be no mistake. "He knows."

This time the pause was heavy, pregnant with revelations being considered; further confessions weighed against having maybe said too much. "Yeah, well...even so, he has...other duties. I'm not sure if I could ever fit in to his life..."

Silence and then softly, the voice roughed with emotion, "You would. I...surely he would be able t' work somethin' out."

"He's - neither of us have had a particularly smooth time in the love department. To hurt him -" But it was time to give up the pretense. "It wouldn't be worth our friendship. That's something I won't do, Phil."

"I - I know, Nick. I feel th' same way."

"Sometimes I think - we're so different; like..."

"Two sides 'f th' same coin."

"Night and day." He could barely see Nick nodding. "But that's what makes this work."

"I know." Suddenly there was only one thing Philip needed. "I want t' see you."

For a time, neither man moved. Both unsure; hesitant to move darkened confessions into the light.

Movement in the stillness again caught his eye; Nick nodding once, slowly. "Yah. Okay."

The doors opened and they both stepped out to face the other and Philip was surprised to see the SEAL's face wet with silent tears. His expression was almost unreadable, but Philip knew it was the eyes that spoke for Nick, every time. His face may give nothing away but his eyes were darker, the incredible green deepened almost to black, screaming vulnerability; the thick lashes spikey and wet.

Nick spoke first, again in that low, wry drawl, ducking his head to look at the priest through lowered lashes. The effect was somewhat shy but more likely it was a protection tactic; give nothing away.

"I...guess you know the dedication was for you."

Philip's lips softened into a smile. "I figured that out - finally." And continued. "Y' know, for two such intelligent men, it sure took us long enough."

"Yah." Glancing at his friend, Nick had no intentions of taking this any further, not even a touch. Standing by the pews, in the back of the main cavern of a Catholic church was no place to have his hands all over a priest, even if every nerve in his body was on edge, screaming at him to _do_ something. It was too dangerous; because he knew he would never be able to _stop_ at just a touch. "Are we there?"

"Yeah, we're there." And Philip was touching _him_, cupping his chin, speaking softly, "'So when you remember th' ones who hav' lied, who said they cared but then left as you cried, beautiful darlin', don't think 'f me...' "

Surprised, Nick looked at him, a smile dawning across his face as Philip blushed lightly. "Never happen," he promised. "All I ever wanted...is right here."

Philip nodded, feeling the exact same way and - finally - knowing Nick understood. "I'll never leave y' again Nick, That's a promise."

"I love you, Philip." He looked up with an indrawn breath. "Believe me?"

"'f course I do. How could I not believe you?" Shyly, Philip admitted his part. "I love you, too, Nick. I just could never say 't."

"Because you meant it."

The two stood together under the highly painted and ornamented ceiling of the church, smiles growing like a couple of fools. Relief and giddiness made it impossible to stay so serious for very long. As usual, Nick broke first, tone suggestive. "So...whaddya think we should do about it?"

Philip's shaky laugh echoed through the chamber, though neither really cared. "Now - we sleep. I go t' my bed and you go t' yours. Just wha' kinda man do y' think I am?"

"Virgin, huh? Figures." Nick's eyes disappeared in a wicked gleam as Philip felt his ears and neck heat at the subject. "Well, that's ok. I'll be gentle."

Never let it be said that the Irishman had backed down from a little innuendo. Still blushing hotly, Philip rolled his eyes.

"And who says I will be? I swear I don' t'know where people get the impression that I'm such a complete dolt. I _hav'_ been around th' block ya know!"

Grinning, Nick shook his head at the colorful exasperation. "I hate to tell you, Phil, but you haven't been around the corner, much less the block."

Philip's gaze softened. "Well, maybe not. But I want to."

Nick's brows arched, his lips grinning in mischief. "Here?"

"No, not here!" Philip couldn't help the shaky laugh, softer this time, at Nick's false incredulous look of surprise at the thought of using the confessional. There was just too much emotion to keep his voice steady.

"But it's private." Nick egged him on, teasing.

"Not private enough." Muttered, Philip blushed anew at the thought.

"How about the 'stang?" Most of the teasing faded. "It's dark, backseat's perfect." Nick's voice low, the SEAL was standing closer, and Philip shivered at the erotism of the suggestion, images already appearing in his mind of the two of them. "I'll even let you drive."

Surprised, he could tell Nick was serious beneath the teasing and the priest's body responded to the next images of Philip in control...

Before admitting that he really _hadn't_ so much as been around the corner. "I...haven't gotten m' license yet..."

Forgetting about being out in the open, Nick's strong hand took his, offering a solid weight. "I'll teach you."

And Philip sighed, remembering his earlier reckless wish during the dedication. "Anything."

"Yah."

But it was late, or early, and as much as he wanted this... "Nick..."

"Yah, I know." Nick's grin held a wry twist. "Bed. I should go." And then, greatly daring, Nick's thumb caressed his friend's wrist. "Walk me out?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea." Philip shook his head ruefully, biting his lip. "Backseat 'nd all. Later, though?"

"Are you kidding?" Laughing, Nick did his best to hide his shift in stance, but Philip caught it - and it's meaning - right away. "You just may not get as much sleep as you originally planned."

"I think I c'n live with that."

Nick just groaned at the implied promise. "Aw man. I have _got_ ta get outta here." He gave Philip's hand a squeeze, felt it returned before letting go.

As he reluctantly turned to leave, Philip called softly. "Nick?"

The ex-SEAL turned, and Philip found he had nothing more to say.

But he didn't need to; Nick understood. "Yah." He smiled softly and was gone.

Leaving Philip staring at the flickering flames of the offering candles, more thankful than, at the start of the evening, he had thought he had any right to be. More thankful than he had been in a long, long time.

**- - o o O O o o - - **

Looking back, Philip never did get to sleep his nice soft bed, neither in the church, nor the House. Although, not for the reasons he may have hoped.

When the mainland plumber beating on the broken pipe became too much to bear, Nick popped in a moment after he resolutely swung his legs from under the covers. A dimpled, appreciative glance at the bare limbs and a shy averting of Philip's eyes as he pulled on his jeans, had diverted the priest's attention away from what the younger man was carrying.

A few minutes and short walk later saw the two on the far side of a small half-shaded clearing on the backside of the House, well away from prying eyes. There they ate the simple lunch the SEAL had packed, lounging on the blanket Philip had taken from his room, just talking about pleasantries or nothing at all, content for now to just enjoy the other's company in a silence that wasn't strained and watch the few boats drift across the bay. Nothing stirred but the soft heat of the sun and the sweet grass scent mixed with the smell of the bay on the wind; the only breaking of the silence an occasional call of a bird or faraway clanging of the harbor buoy.

A short time later, his fatigue finally caught up with him and Philip did sleep...

...lulled by the peaceful afternoon and tucked firmly against the ex-SEAL's chest, dozing in the warmth of the sun and Nick's arms.

**(( o O o ))**


End file.
